From Asia to Europe

Lately it’s been brought to attention that Swedes actually have a word within their language “_________” (to be updated), that signifies a sense of overall comfort. By this, they mean that they’ve little need to try to approach a stranger, or more daringly, a foreigner. (!)

Infact, those strangers who approach them are intuitively seen as ‘odd’ or socially ‘ususual’. To meet a Swede, one must know a Swede and infiltrate social circles by introduction.

Upon hearing this, I couldn’t help but wonder if it isn’t a genetic defense trait designed to protect recessive genes… which would be fun to explore… though this may lead to unfashionable Hitlerian paths.

(Here, I feel like the trojan horse who, behind the blonde-and-blue, is hiding lingering dominant genes for – gasp – brown hair!)

It may be more likely due to a fierce defense of institution: this body that swallows up a significant portion of their earnings, yet allows them the rather la-dee-da, ‘oh, it’s fika (coffee) time again!’ approach to work. If Toronto’s work pace came even within a mile of the Swedes’, I may be tempted to shy away from the relatively rushed, industrious foreigner, lest they get any crazy ideas about settling.

Off-to-writedly,
Laura

Life was very clear-cut in Taiwan where I stuck out like a ‘photo-negative’: people knew to speak simple Chinese to me, they expected to have to help me and I in turn expected them to charge me through the nose at the market. We found our places quickly and life moved in understood directions.

Here in Sweden, I’ve been dealt a sort of camouflage that’s opened a ‘back door’ to the culture – one that, when my grasp of Swedish is made clear, isn’t held open for too long.

As demonstrated in the ‘what’s your name’ exchange between myself and administator “Sven Svensson” (not unlike “John Jones” in English):

Sven Svensson: What’s your last name?
Laura: Henderson.
Sven Svesson: Ah! A-N-D-E-R-S-S-O-N.
Laura: Not quite, ‘HEN-derson’.
Sven Svensson: Ah, I know it! H-E-N-D-E-R-S-S-O-N.
Laura: Close, but with one ‘s’.
Sven Svensson: Oh? H-E-N-D-E-R-S-O-N? That’s unusual Swedish spelling.
Laura: I’m an unusual Swede.
Sven Svensson: (Polite smile.)

Or better yet, the ‘we-can-speak-Swedish-now’, part A and B:

(A): After landing in Vasteras airport on August 17th, I walk up to the cafe counter and ask for a coffee in English. The lady behind the counter shoots me an inquisitive smile, begins her sentence in English and then ends it in Swedish with directions to the self-serve coffee. I thank her in English. Same inquisitive smile in response. Later, she drops by the table and presumably asks if I’m finished with the ketchup that’s been sitting on the table: again, all in Swedish. I give in, nod my head, and thank her in Swedish.

(B): A Swede, a Uruguayan and a Canadian walk up to an IKEA cash. (The bartender says…) Or rather, the cashier hears us speaking English together and addresses Maria (Swede) in English. She gets rung through. Next is Miguel, addressed in English again. Rung through without incident. As I’m loading my wares onto the conveyor belt, I hearthe cashier chatting away in Swedish. I presume that she’s speaking to the other cashier and pay her little attention. Suddenly, her face forms that ‘waiting expression’ when it’s time to answer a question: she’d switched back to Swedish to speak with me and evidently it was my turn to reply. “Sorry?” was all I could manage as Maria stifled a giggle.

Daily, I resist the temptation to reply with Catherine Tate’s ‘herdy gerdy’ dialogue from the ‘Translator’ skit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncirovhlQcw

Falsely,
Laura

Six years ago, when I first visited Europe (and Sweden), I remember being quickly charmed by the lifestyle - the easy pace, focus on quality of life, the rather forward and open nature of conversation, the care in which building ... [Continue reading this entry]